


Lex Talionis

by hergan416



Category: One Piece
Genre: (Not a major theme, Biting, Brief nudity in front of children, Cannibalism Play, Cock Vore, Guns, Hurt No Comfort, Killing of innocents/Mass homicide, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, One Piece Bingo, Serious Injuries, Temporary Character Death, Whump, but it's still there), experiments with hot-flame Marco, op_bingo2020, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29077401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hergan416/pseuds/hergan416
Summary: “Sphinx Island,” Blackbeard stated, as he passed the eternal pose to the sniper. “He might not be alone,” he warned, snickering loudly, as though laughing at a crude joke.Van Augur simply took the offered object with a sadistic grin.---One Piece Bingo 2020 submission for prompt: Temporary Character Death.
Relationships: Charlotte Katakuri/Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: One Piece Bingo 2020/2021





	Lex Talionis

**Author's Note:**

> This one contains EXTREMELY HEAVY CONTENT. Not only is it by far the most violent Katamar sex I've written, but it happens within the context of a tragedy. Nothing will end well. Nothing good will happen. Everyone will be upset by the end. Content is extremely dark. Please be warned.
> 
> This work takes place as though the first two works in my [Love's Riddles](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637371) series happened, but I'm not making it a part of the series, as it is a deviation from how I would like that universe to actually go. It is unnecessary to read those works to understand this one, although they do provide more context as to how Katakuri came to reside on Sphinx Island with Marco, should you want it.

_“Sphinx Island,” Blackbeard stated, as he passed the eternal pose to the sniper. “He might not be alone,” he warned, snickering loudly, as though laughing at a crude joke._

_Van Augur simply took the offered object with a sadistic grin._

The creak of sails and bustling racket of his crew filled Van Augur’s ears. Most assassins would not choose to openly travel to their destination, flying their own sails. Van Augur didn’t care. They wouldn’t actually anchor within sight of Sphinx Island, home to Marco the Phoenix. One, insane shot, was all Van Augur would need.

On the morning of the third, and final, day of the voyage, Van Augur meticulously disassembled Senriku to clean her, trusting fate that he would be done before he was ready to kill his target. Experienced hands quickly maneuvered to brush away any fouling in the barrel - once, twice, three times. Practiced and precise motions quickly applied an expensive cleaning solution and some lubricant. Then, Van Augur reassembled the rifle, finishing the process by buffing the rifle’s action with a lightly-oiled rag and using a needle’s tip to carefully lubricate a few key joints. He eyed his gun carefully. She was ready for the job ahead.

Soon, the ship neared Sphinx, and Van Augur shouted orders to anchor below the curve of the horizon, carefully skirting the edge of Marco’s observation haki. Van Augur casually adjusted the dial on his spyglass and extended his own haki to observe his target.

As though he were next to Marco, he heard the words: “It’s been too long, my pet.”

The voice that spoke them was eerily familiar, the gruff, usually bored voice of Marco’s counterpart on Big Mom’s crew. If any other member of Van Augur’s crew had heard Katakuri’s words, it might have caused a scandal. Van Augur, however, didn’t react.

“Perhaps,” was Marco’s response. “Or perhaps you will have become desperate enough to _properly_ destroy me today.”

“I can destroy you any day I choose,” Katakuri replied. He moved nearer to Marco, running hands along Marco’s spine sensually. Van Augur could feel their tension through his haki---knew what he’d have to witness in order to perfect his shot. 

“Then get on with it,” Marco challenged.

Katakuri slowly unraveled his scarf, revealing his sawtooth teeth and scarred face. Again, if any of Van Augur’s crew were to have seen this, there would have been shocked muttering and rumor-mongering, but Van Augur didn’t react, simply loading a single seastone bullet into Senriku’s chamber before calmly taking aim.

“Strip,” Katakuri commanded, oblivious to the danger they faced. Marco listened, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, putting on a show of removing it. As Marco's pants followed the shirt in the pile of clothes on the floor, Katakuri grinned, loosening the buckle of his pants to relieve new pressure at his waist. But even as Marco stripped naked before him, Katakuri otherwise remained clothed. Marco pouted, but Katakuri seemed immune to his gesture and didn't react. Marco shrugged, then tried a new tactic. He met Katakuri’s gaze defiantly, allowing a small, blue flame to ignite in his eyes before tilting his neck to the side in an unvoiced challenge.

Katakuri finally responded, leaning down to bite into Marco’s exposed shoulder, hard and fast, drawing blood. Katakuri used haki to coat his teeth, making them strong enough to bite through Marco’s bone. Eventually, his jaws met, a chunk of Marco now dislodged in his mouth. Marco moaned loudly, his one working hand gripping at Katakuri’s side to steady himself as the phoenix immediately began to work on healing the injury. Katakuri released the flesh and bone in his mouth, his teeth stained with blood as he grinned at Marco. Marco watched his shoulder fall loosely back into place, before tumbling down to land next to the couple on the bed. 

Two, haki-coated fingers explored Marco’s injury, pressing on a severed vein near the surface of the wound, interrupting the blue flames as they sprouted. Eventually blue flame fully encased Katakuri’s fingers, Marco’s regeneration stronger than Katakuri’s haki. The heat became too much for Katakuri to prevent, and the smell of burning rice began to fill the room. Blue flames spread to Katakuri’s fingertips, injuring him for his indulgence. He withdrew his hand, wiping it on the sheets, smothering the flames in the process. 

Marco shuddered, clearly turned on by the reaction. Katakuri repeated it, replacing the fingers in the inferno without fear, prodding Marco’s open wound as his phoenix attempted to heal the affliction. After he caught fire the second time, Marco leaned forward to kiss the other man’s fingers, opening his mouth and extinguishing the flames with his saliva. He lathed them with his tongue, choosing this moment to heal the other man, even though it would slow his own regeneration. 

Katakuri marveled at the way a difference in intention could transform Marco’s flames from dangerous inferno to soothing medicine. What had just burnt him now felt as cool and soothing as aloe. The medicine was far from instantaneous, however, giving Marco plenty of time to mouth-fuck Katakuri’s fingers, his flaming tongue lapping them sensually as he began to give Katakuri the facsimile of a blow job. By the time Marco pulled off the now-healed fingers with a slight pop, Katakuri was panting, his cock straining.

Of course, such insolence deserved punishment. Katakuri forced his fingers back into Marco’s mouth, despite no longer needing the healing. He curled his fingers down, shoving them back into Marco’s throat until he gagged. Katakuri slipped his other hand between Marco’s legs to grip Marco’s cock, roughly stroking upwards. Marco gasped, good hand clapping Katakuri on the shoulder, gripping hard to steady himself. He gagged on the intake of air, and Katakuri relentlessly pushed his fingers down farther. 

A second, mean stroke of Marco’s cock suddenly became a yank, and Marco gagged again as he tried to gasp in surprise, the pain enticing a sweet groan from deep in his gut, the sound working its way past the blockage in Marco’s throat to land in Katakuri’s ears. Katakuri was helpless to that noise, repeating the action to draw forth the sound again and again, until he bored of it. Katakuri withdrew his fingers and released Marco’s cock, eliciting a disappointed whine. 

Without acknowledging the sound, Katakuri roughly manhandled Marco, repositioning him on the bed so he was lying on his back, spread before Katakuri. A once-over revealed that Marco’s shoulder had nearly healed, making this the perfect moment for Katakuri to bend his head and chomp down on his lover’s left thigh.

Marco’s eyes rolled towards the back of his head, and a delicious stream of curses left his lips. Katakuri didn’t explore this wound this time, in favor of creating a matching one on the other side. Two more pieces of boneless flesh joined the first on the sheets, staining them red. Marco’s hands clenched the nearby blanket, telling Katakuri that he was doing his job right.

Katakuri leaned towards the bedside table, reaching for a white bag of donuts he had made this morning. He made eye contact with Marco as he slowly pushed one after the other onto Marco’s cock, until the piece of flesh was entirely encased in sweet pastries. Marco’s chest heaved in anticipation, as Katakuri bent over, encasing Marco’s manhood (and the donuts) in his mouth. Slowly at first, then faster and harder as he met the resistance of Marco’s skin, Katakuri bit down.

Marco let out a guttural noise, pain and pleasure mixing as he burst further into flame. His lower half was in bad shape. Katakuri pulled himself up and away from the flame, maintaining eye contact with Marco, Marco’s donut encased cock still resting in his mouth. Marco panted, his eyes shining, watching as Katakuri slowly began to chew. 

The way the blood and flesh of Marco’s cock ruined the donut flavor was not very appealing to Katakuri. It was akin to trying to eat cake and rare steak at the same time, the flavors clashed with each other and the textures were ruined by both foods. It was worth it, however, for the way that Marco squirmed at each deliberate movement of his jaw, the needy moans that escaped the other man’s throat when Katakuri carefully chewed with an open mouth to display his handiwork to Marco, and the way Marco’s flames seemed to burn brighter the more obvious Katakuri’s actions were. He swallowed, knowing that he’d likely get sick from the raw meat, but uncaring because of the expression on Marco’s face at that moment.

Maro twitched, straining, severed thigh muscles preventing him from easily pulling himself downwards and pressing himself to Katakuri. “Please,” he begged, voice haggard.

Katakuri didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned forward and pressed himself against Marco’s groin, unprepared, since no lasting damage would come of it. Katakuri could feel the heat from Marco’s thighs as he pressed into the tight hole, screwing his eyes shut at the sensation of flesh tearing, and the ignition of more scalding flame.

It was always a gamble to try this. Would Katakuri manage to finish before Marco’s flames consumed him? The race was part of the excitement. He thrust quickly and wildly into Marco, abandoning all teasing hesitation, his groin already burning from the heat of Marco’s healing, which surrounded him on all sides.

Marco growled greedily, hands clenching and unclenching their grip on the blanket as Katakuri rocked his hips into the tight space. Katakuri only saw this as something to destroy. Katakuri leaned forward and extended his tongue, consuming Marco’s right arm up to the elbow, licking it sensually before biting down. He didn’t fully sever the limb, instead leaving it connected by a thread, keeping it inside his mouth as long as he dared, letting Marco’s fire burst forth inside it. It was good the room had no smoke detectors, because by the time Katakuri reopened his mouth, a cloud of smoke had formed, filling the room as Marco’s one remaining functional finger caressed Katakuri’s tongue as it slid down into position on the bed.

Katakuri was struggling to remain in control, muscles shaking from effort. The heightened emotions had already long blocked off his future sight, and the thrill of not knowing what would happen next only enhanced his pleasure. Would he orgasm? Would his cock become so engulfed in fire that would be impossible? Marco’s eyes fluttered into the back of his head, and he shouted loudly as Katakuri’s latest thrust ruptured something deep inside him.

Only one place left to bite. Katakuri could feel the build up, the fire, the _danger_ as he thrust forward a final time, spilling himself into Marco. His head flew forward and he bit down on Marco’s throat, silencing him mid-shout. Marco’s left hand, working now despite the still-healing injuries to his shoulder, flew up and clapped Katakuri on the back, nails digging into flesh to communicate his pleasure nonverbally.

Katakuri closed his eyes, still overcome by the euphoria of his orgasm. Soon, however, the stinging of his burnt mouth and the fire on his groin began to slowly overtake the blissed out feeling of post-orgasmic haze. On the border of Katakuri’s consciousness, a light breeze ruffled the curtains near the open window, but he paid it no mind. Marco’s flames raged to life around him, and Katakuri breathed in the promise of pain. It was time for _his_ punishment. 

But then, unexpectedly, Marco’s flames died.

Katakuri frantically looked over Marco, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He didn’t feel that he had caused any more damage than average for their sessions, why had Marco stopped healing? The hand clenching Katakuri’s back weakly let go, falling to the bed near Katakuri’s knee with a soft thump. Marco’s eyes were fading fast.

Katakuri withdrew from Marco, wishing that his last action hadn’t been to silence the man. Maybe if he hadn’t, Marco could have told him what was wrong. He focused on Marco’s lips which parted and gasped for air. This couldn’t be the end.

Marco extended a finger and brushed Katakuri’s knee lovingly, before his eyes fell shut, and his chest stilled. For a moment, all was still.

Then, Katakuri wailed. His airways constricted as tears welled freely in his eyes. He _was_ a monster. He’d killed Marco. He’d killed his partner. He’d killed the unkillable Marco the Phoenix. He was a bad idea, he had always known it, his family knew it, his mother knew it. He shouldn’t have allowed Marco to talk him into their relationship all those years ago.

Off in the distance, Van Augur held his smoking gun, a rare, wide smile on his face. “Mission accomplished, boys,” he called, and the ship pulled away from it’s position below the horizon of Sphinx Island. 

Katakuri clutched Marco’s lifeless body to his chest, pulling him upwards, sobbing into his unmoving shoulder, the one he hadn’t bit. As his hand reached around Marco’s back to hold him close, he noticed a wound he hadn’t inflicted. A bullet hole.

Katakuri chased the object quickly, his fingers reaching into the wound to find, lodged in Marco’s side, a seastone bullet. He gripped the object forcefully in his fingers, dragging it backwards through the wall of Marco’s flesh, hoping against hope that somehow, Marco’s fruit would save him still.

Katakuri felt weak as he cradled the offending object in his hand, forming a fist and chucking it towards the wall. It didn’t make it, instead rattling to the floor and rolling around noisily, the power of the sea sapping even his strength to make a simple throw. Katakuri’s wails of sorrow transformed into howls of rage, and Katakuri’s fist connected with the mattress, causing the whole bed to dip under the force. It was time for revenge.

A crowd was building outside their shared hut, villagers concerned about the pained noises coming from inside. Katakuri closed his eyes and breathed in steadily. As he exhaled, he stood, opening his eyes and pacing to the door.

“Who did it?” he demanded as he threw the offending plank off its hinges. It snapped against the wall of the hut, banging loudly and silencing the crowd.

No one seemed inclined to speak up.

“ _Who shot him?_ ” Katakuri asked once more, eyes wild as they tore from face to face, searching for the culprit. Katakuri hadn’t bothered to hide his bloodstained teeth or his nudity before storming the village, and his aura was that of a feral animal. The villagers whispered amongst themselves, mothers pulling their children into their sides and covering their eyes. Katakuri couldn’t take it.

So _what_ if they welcomed him here? It was only for Marco. They didn’t care about him. They were scared of him. They were _right_ to be scared of him. A grin formed on his face, sadistic.

“ **Tell me** ,” he boomed once more, an arm growing to reach for a child near the front row, whose mother was doing her best to keep her safe. No matter. Mochi twisted and turned and encapsulated her small body, holding her up as an example to the villagers. 

The chorus of denials fell on deaf ears. Katakuri snapped her in half like a twig, tossing her towards the gathered villagers. Screams erupted and the crowd began to disperse, but Katakuri was faster. Too many arms formed, reaching in all directions at once, grasping at villagers and suffocating their screams like an eldritch horror. 

The very ground began to transform into mochi, radiating from Katakuri’s bare feet in a wide circle. The soft, pliable material made poor terrain for running, and Katakuri felt inclined to make it worse, extending his will into the very earth to make passage impossible. The village was quickly swallowed, and Katakuri made sure to pay attention to each struggling life form in his grasp until he was the only one left breathing on the island.

Satisfied for now, Katakuri turned back to the hut, ready to gather his things and return to his _real_ family. But, something was wrong. A swirling inferno of hot, blue flames encapsulated the bed in the corner of the hut, surrounding Marco’s body. As he approached, he realized it was hotter than any flame he’d seen Marco create thus far, but unlike any other time that Marco had healed, Katakuri didn’t catch fire. Neither had the bed so far. Instead, there was something comforting about the presence in the corner. 

Marco’s flames heated from blue to white then stopped, leaving a small pile of ash gathered in the center of the bed. Katakuri approached warily, sitting on the bed gently. “Maybe I’ll keep a bit of you with me,” he murmured, a hand tentatively reaching forward to run his fingers through the ash.

He was surprised by wiggling within the pile, and he pulled his hand back. A small, blue and yellow bird with Marco’s distinctive hair pushed aside the ash and looked up at him, chirping quietly.

“Marco?” Katakuri asked, astounded.

The bird chirped again in acknowledgement, leaning his head on Katakuri’s hand comfortingly. Katakuri’s heart palpitated, melting at the softness. Katakuri picked up the tiny Marco and held him close to his chest, cuddling the miniaturized phoenix.

“You’re ok,” Katakuri wondered aloud, blinking back emotions he didn’t dare process. Marco seemed inclined to sit for a moment in comfort, and Katakuri didn’t mind. Soon, however, the phoenix was squirming out of Katakuri’s grasp. Katakuri laughed, and let Marco free, thinking nothing of it as he allowed Marco to roam the room.

At first, Marco simply fluttered to Katakuri’s burned lap, which he healed. Katakuri thanked him, telling him he didn’t need to concern himself with his injuries. Marco, of course, didn’t listen, and so Katakuri sat still while the small bird finished the work.

When he finished, Katakuri decided to get dressed, turning from Marco to put on pants. By the time he turned around again, Marco had hopped over to the open door to the hut and was standing in the threshold of the doorway.

A sudden wave of nausea hit Katakuri, which he initially recognized as their previous activities making him sick, until a premonition he had no control over slapped him in the face. Marco would _leave_.

It was too late to stop Marco from strutting outside calmly, too late to stop the upset squawk as Marco took in the sight of hoards of murdered villagers, the ground still made of impassible mochi, a clear indicator of who was at fault. Marco turned around, squawking angrily at Katakuri, a pair of clear tears framing his beautiful face.

Katakuri opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to say _anything at all,_ but no words came out. The phoenix was already taking flight, leaving him and the island, seeming unconcerned with whatever excuse Katakuri would have given in the first place. Katakuri didn’t stand a chance. Marco had lived, but Katakuri was still alone.

Tears once more rolled down Katakuri’s face and he pounded on the walls of the hut in agony. “ _They_ _killed you_ ,” he shouted to the empty island. “ ** _They killed you!!!_** ” 

But Marco was already gone.


End file.
